“The Broken Become Wise”
Images of the long forgotten
Dance across closed eyes
A smoldering cauldron of misbegotten
Tries; faltering, I surmise
Too late the uncommon
Value of dark and stormy skies
The knowledge of the sodden
Soul; the broken become wise
Straining, I see through the mist of fear
The wisdom of the ancient Druid
Seer; her smile is cavalier
My dread is transmuted
Bravely, I appear
Sorrow, as a weed uprooted
Destiny—no mere
List so easily permuted
I, alone, discern
The path of the Ancients
The Celtic sojourn learn
Deafened to mendacious
Guides, I finally adjourn
Rumination’s patience
Prophetic dreams return
Asleep, the mind sagacious
Awakened, my pilgrimage is clear
Avoiding the spiritually reputed
Secluded, I pioneer
The skeptic, conduits refuted
Divining the allelic, finally truth is near
Facts undisputed
Though the Romantic’s quest’s sincere
Morosely, true believers brooded
Still, images of the long forgotten rise
But the broken become wise
And healed, the myth, decries.
—Christina Knowles
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